


tempus

by gryffindormischief



Series: turn to stone [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kinda, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, aristocratic AU, gentleman!james
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindormischief/pseuds/gryffindormischief
Summary: When your entire life is spent working toward a goal, sometimes it's hard to find a new dream.  But sometimes, it falls into your lap.Part 2 of the perpetuus-verse





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a gift for petals-to-fish <3 <3 (she's on tumblr and FF) 
> 
> This will probably not make too much sense if you haven't read perpetuus, but how much context do you need for fluff? I would definitely recommend reading that one first though bc otherwise there are going to be a few questions hehe

The months after James and Lily’s final defeat of Riddle are a mix of recovery, boredom, academic discussion, and snogging, in varying degrees, depending on which of the foursome you ask.

At some point, James decides his first foray into life in a new century would be learning the modern cooking arts, aided by a broad volume on ‘women in the home’ he found during a jaunt into town with Remus. He’s prodding the chicken in the oven curiously when Lily pads into the kitchen, toe-pinching boots and scratchy tights forgone in the lazy company she keeps.

Still, her hair is always groomed, either in graceful braids looping around her head or long and glistening in the sunlight, depending on her planned activities for the day, which includes considering how wild she wants to drive James. Bare toes skipping across the polished wood floor, Lily manages to catch James unawares as he straightens from his examination of their dinner.

James stutters in his movements for a moment, but quickly pulls her arms around his waist, knitting their fingers together, and sighs, warm and rumbling against her chest. “Sirius, I didn’t know you felt this way.”

Pinching his middle, Lily pulls back as James closes the oven door with a careful _smack_. Expertly, Lily pushes herself onto the stretch of workspace relatively free of flour and watches as James consults the recipe again, squinting at the unfamiliar letters he’s been learning with shocking ease. Legs kicking out in random circles, Lily leans back on her palms. “Are you squinting because you’re confused or because you can’t see?”

“I’m not blind Lily, I see you right in front of me,” James drawls with entirely too much sass, “Red hair, bare toes, bright green eyes like a doe.”

He can probably see the flush on her cheeks too, but Lily brushes past it and blinks coquettishly, shooing James back and raising her hand somewhere near her head. “Yes, but can you see how many fingers I’ve raised?”

“Four?” he tries with forced confidence.

“None James. I’ve raised none,” Lily sighs, sliding down from the counter and striding forward until her clenched fist is held in front of his face, “We’re going to the optometrist.”

Her hands find the sides of his face; cheeks rough with a few days’ stubble, and tug down until his nose is pressed against hers. “You can’t see for shit, m’dear.”

James blinks slowly, once, twice, his dark lashes curling against his honeyed skin. “Is that right?”

A nod, and his breath fans across her cheekbone. Then her hands are in his hair, dark loops curling wildly between her fingers as she presses her lips to his, soft and questioning. James sighs against her mouth, deepening the kiss, arms banding around her waist, firm but gentle. They break apart, just a breath and Lily almost moans at the loss of contact. “You don’t need to keep walking around like you’re blind for me to kiss you James.”

“I’m not sure I want to add _another_ item to my daily dressing. This century is already entirely too accessorized,” James murmurs, nuzzling at her jawline, “What’s the motivation?”

He kisses her, confident and seeking and Lily nearly forgets their conversation when James nimble fingers work the combs from her hair and they fall with a clatter to the tabletop. Still, she manages to pick the thread back up, despite James’ pleasing ministrations. “The – _ah_ – motivation is better,” James has worked his way back to her mouth by now, and she’s temporarily delayed, “ _quality of life_.”

Pulling away, James smirks, his face flushed and his eyes blown wide and glassy. “My ‘quality of life’ is pretty fantastic at the moment, Lily.”

* * *

 

Still, Lily manages to strong arm James into getting his eyes examined the next time Sirius is taking a trip into town for supplies and a nip at the local tavern. And although her intent is to accompany him on his jaunt, the small bookshop on the corner beckons and James shoos her away, blinking at her with humorous impatience, “I think being multiple centuries old counts as being an adult, dear.”

Sirius barks a laugh, throwing one arm around James’ neck, “I’ll take care of the old man while he gets his glasses, Evans, don’t you worry.”

Which, despite her general inability to be ‘hands off’ about pretty much anything, does manage to set her mind at ease enough that she gets utterly lost in the surprisingly vast collection of books for the next three quarters of an hour. In fact, she gets so caught up that she doesn’t realize she’s being snuck up on until James’ hands are hovering over her eyes.

With a yelp, Lily jumps, nearly dropping the tome in her hand, which earns a questioning look from the shopkeeper. Gently, she places the book back on the shelf and turns toward James, scowling with a reproof ready on her lips – one she instantly forgets when she finds him grinning at her boyishly from behind wire rimmed spectacles.

Mouth going dry, Lily’s jaw works soundlessly until Sirius strides over and ruffles James’ perpetually messy hair. “Grandpa over here is practically _blind_ apparently.”

“Am not.”

Sirius’ arm drops to wrap around James’ neck while he addresses Lily, “This man needed _bifocals_.”

He pauses, expectant, but Lily still hasn’t managed much beyond an answering grunt, too caught up in the glint of gold around James’ hazel eyes. Lucky for her, James has been distracted enough by Sirius’ teasing that he hasn’t yet picked up on her complete befuddlement. And somehow, by the time his gaze turns to her, Lily’s managed to get herself largely under control and goes about paying for her selections. “So Sirius was a good nanny?”

James laughs. “Except for the half hour when he _left_ me. Could’ve wandered into buggy traffic and _died_.”

Sirius flicks his nose. “Don’t be melodramatic.”

“Right, that’s _his_ job,” Lily drawls, tucking her hand into the crook of James’ arm and steering them toward home. Ever the gentleman, James holds his arm out for her parcels and Lily hands them over, arms stiff after cradling book after book for the last hour.

As they leave the boundaries of town, the road turns grassy, trampled down muddy from foot traffic with wider ruts from wagon wheels. The sun’s bright, but partially tucked behind the clouds, so Lily lets her head drop back, free hand holding her wide brimmed hat in place. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees James wriggle his nose in a failed attempt to tick his glasses up his tanned nose.

Grinning – fresh air and James bringing lightness to her chest she’s still not used to – Lily uses a single finger to push his frames up to their rightful place. “Not quite used to them, eh?”

James shrugs, adjusting Lily’s books under his arm. “I guess it’ll take time. I do look rather – ”

“Swotty?” Sirius puts in from behind, barely glancing up to flash a smile before he’s back invested in his correspondence.

When Lily turns to James, he’s already tilted his face toward her, and it feels like that first time she saw him – tall, broad, and everything about him warm and inviting. There’s a glint in his eye she can’t quite place, but the openness of his expression has her speaking before she can reconsider. “Well I think you look dashing.”

His lips quirk, eyes bright and freckles winking at her like constellations spread across his cheeks, and it’s such a sight, Lily can’t even bring herself to glare when Sirius snorts. James rolls his eyes, commiserating, and Lily’s considering telling Sirius to go on ahead and drag James off somewhere private, when Remus shouts from the front porch, “Who wants steak and kidney pie?”

And despite her other _inclinations_ Lily’s stomach gives a loud grumble at the mention of a hot meal and she’s forced to leave aside less vital desires for the moment. Still, James’ hand steady and sure at the small of her back gives her pause, and combined with the private side-glance he sends her way, nearly drives her to insanity.

But despite her divided interests, supper turns out to be a relaxing and enjoyable affair, sprawled across the outdoor furniture as the sun lingers above the horizon, giving up its last rays before it leaves the countryside to the blue haze of the moon. Together, they manage to completely demolish Remus’ impeccably done pie _and_ three quarters of the colorful trifle he’d prepared for dessert by the time the sky’s gone dark.

As the stars glitter to light the night, they work together, tidying up with relative ease with the responsibilities divided between the four of them. By the time they’ve finished, Sirius sets off for the study for more ‘personal correspondence’ – which Lily thinks might just consist of naughty jokes submitted to gentlemen’s magazines – and Remus goes back to his latest self-assigned research project on the mystical properties of ancient monoliths.

James seems content to putter about in the living areas of the manor but Lily can’t help being drawn to the outdoors, so she ambles through the swaying grasses toward Sirius’ pride and joy – a slightly moth eaten hammock he dug up in the shed and spent an entire afternoon hanging from two wide oaks in the yard.

Having spent most of her adult life in cities, Lily still wonders at the sights, sounds, and smells of the countryside at night, dark but welcoming rather than nerve-wracking. The random croaks, chirps, and birdcalls pierce the night in an irregular but increasingly familiar pattern – not quite predictable in sequence, but the players remain the same each evening.

She’s just slipped into the swaying hammock, boots abandoned in the waxy grass, when footsteps break the gentle symphony of the night, and James’ heady scent – warm and woodsy – drifts over the soft breeze.

Still, her quite repose isn’t interrupted, although her senses are on high alert at his nearness so when he gently brushes the back of his fingers against her jawline, she’s mostly not surprised, despite her closed eyes. “Fancy meeting you here, James.”

His chuckle is a low rumble and Lily cracks one eye open, almost instantly regretting it. In his post-supper relaxation, James has abandoned most attempts at appearing the civilized gentleman. Shirt untucked and half unbuttoned, boots and socks lost in some unknown corner of the manor, and hair a hurricane, his only real gentlemanly appearance is the coppery pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Which – for the sake of Lily’s sanity – really should have been forgone.

And yet, she manages to maintain some sort of forced aloofness, letting her eyes drift closed again as he stands, hands loose at his sides as the night sinks in around him.

He’s silent long enough that she almost wonders if he’s loped off to some other part of the expansive property, but she’s too terribly aware of everything about him to ever seriously consider the idea, his comforting presence the new normal she’s come to expect and know better than she knows her own name. But when he finally speaks, low and gravely, she’s still caught off guard. “Room for one more?”

Wordlessly, and with the expected amount of clumsiness usually experienced when doing such things, Lily shifts in the glorified canvas sack until there’s nearly enough room to fit another grown adult. And miraculously – though not unexpectedly – James manages to slip into the open space with graceful, almost balletic movement. It takes some finagling, and a few strands yanked free of Lily’s scalp, but they manage to lie side by side, with Lily’s head pillowed on James broad chest and his arm around her shoulders.

As his heart thrums steadily beneath her ear, somewhat elevated in tempo from his exertions surely, Lily attempts to regulate her breathing, which has become rather labored since James’ increased nearness. Once again, she counts her blessings that the dim lighting and James’ poor vantage point will keep her flushed cheeks from discovery.

Eventually though, her comfort level settles to the normal cozy feeling she gets around James, that innate _knowing_ that she’s safe and cared for by this man that in actuality shouldn’t even exist anymore. As her thoughts drift, so do her hands – fingers breaching the parted halves of his shirt and drawing random shapes on his tanned chest.

She doesn’t even consciously realize her actions until she notices James’ lungs are no longer expanding and contracting with air. Her movements stutter to a halt and she props herself up on one elbow and tosses her ever-loosening plait back over her shoulders. “Everything alright up there?”

“Certainly,” James manages to grind out, somewhat strangled. And it’s that look in his eye – unsure but _so_ willing – that gives Lily the courage to push the boundaries of the carefully constructed guidelines for young ladies engaging in romantic entanglements. Not that she’s been anything close to proper since she met Sirius all those months ago. Nonetheless, she leans closer, so their noses brush. “Anything I can do to make things _more_ alright?”

James raises one hand so it knits through her auburn waves, thumb caressing her cheek. “Honestly, my mind’s gone blank.”

She leans closer, “So sorry to,” her lips brush his, “hear that,” their breaths mix, “How can I comfort y – “

And before she can finish her sentence, James surges forward, mouth warm and seeking against hers as he tugs her closer, hands strong and sure at her waist. After the first rush, he gentles, letting his grip loosen, glasses gone comically crooked and slightly fogged. As he pulls back, Lily chases his lips, frowning at the undesirable interruption. “I wasn’t finished with you.”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” James sighs, flopping onto his back and sending the hammock swaying, “at least _partially_ ,” he amends as Lily quirks a brow and eyes his half exposed chest and their fairly compromising position.

When he tries to pull further away, Lily grabs his wrinkled collar and levels him with a glare most would blanche at, but apparently millennia old warriors are immune, if his smirk is anything to go by. Still, she furrows her brow further and grumbles, “I’m telling you to _not_ be a gentleman – at least in this instance.”

James flushes when her fingers trip over his exposed chest, light and tickling. “I want you – ”

“Well feeling’s _mutual_ ,” Lily grins, kissing his jaw.

She succeeds in distracting him for a few minutes, until their adjusting rocks the hammock too much and tip it enough to the side that James falls to the ground and drags Lily after him, luckily ending with her pillowed across his front.

They dissolve into laughter, Lily’s forehead dropping against his collarbone as they gradually quiet, the night calm around them.

Neither is eager to eliminate the closeness, so they lay beneath the rocking hammock, Lily’s head tucked under James’ chin while his fingers weave through her hair. His deep breath expands his lungs, lifting her head along with his ribs, the exhale carding across the crown of her head. “I – I know we’ve already been less than appropriate. And certainly polite society wouldn’t look kindly on you living with three men you’re not related to, but at least _I_ know that we haven’t done anything _more_.”

Lily’s elbows fall to the sides of his ribcage as she glares. “Well I wasn’t going to _ravish_ you in a hammock _James_.”

Blush deepening, James stammers out, “No! Not – I wasn’t – I just want to – _blast_ – “

Blinking rapidly, Lily’s mind works at a brisk pace as James’ distress inhibits his translation skills and Lily comes to an alternate explanation. “You – was _I_ pressuring _you_?” she scrambles back on her hands, putting space between them, “You’ve just come back, of course you don’t want to get all mixed up with some pushy – ”

Desperate, James vaults upright and holds her face between his palms, firm but gentle. “Lily, Lily darling,” he pauses as her gaze finally returns to his, eyes watery. After a moment, he swipes a stray tear from her cheek and smiles small. “I love you. Want to be with you – permanently,” her lips tilt up at the corners as her cheeks redden and James continues, “I want to wait so you can never think I asked to marry you because I felt I had an obligation.”

“Well you sort of are obligated to me, considering my integral role in your triumphant return,” Lily laughs, sniffing.

James reaches across the distance between them, cupping her jaw with his palm. “Forever grateful and hopelessly in love, I’d say.”

“They don’t make men like you anymore, eh?”

“What, charming and eloquent?”

Lily grins, “I was going to say soppy and dramatic, but that works too,” she pauses at James’ affronted scoff, “By the by, did I miss this alleged marriage proposal that isn’t motivated by obligation? I reckon I’d remember my first one.”

Leaning up on his knees, James pulls Lily to mirror him and presses his smile against hers, deepening it almost immediately so Lily’s mind nearly goes blank, and she’s mostly lost the string of their conversation when James pulls back, just enough that his lips brush hers when he whispers, “That was more like a warning – or a proposal _proposal_.”

Letting her hands slide around his neck, Lily leans forward until her mouth rests against his ear, his wild curls tickling her nose, and murmurs, “I have a proposal of my own.”

James’ chuckle rumbles through his chest as he nuzzles her hair, earning a sigh and then a surprised yelp from Lily. As she pulls away, hands flying to the crown of her head, James’ glasses go with her and he squints into the darkness. “Bloody glasses, going to drive me bonkers before the week’s out,” he groans, “Maybe more harm than good, at that.”

Spectacles still dangling from her hair, Lily looks up quickly, abandoning her task. “No! You shouldn’t – it’s. You can’t stop wearing them.”

Leaning forward, James squints and attempts to work the slim metal free. “Concerned for my well being?”

Lily clears her throat nervously, her nose pressed against his shirt as he works, and nearly squeaks out, “Yes! Exactly.”

“Really,” James drawls, brow quirked, even as he continues his task, finally freeing his frames successfully.

“Of course! Why else would I care?” Lily answers shortly and more convincingly than previously as she pulls away, but her rising blush calls her truthfulness into question and despite the dim lighting, James doesn’t miss her colored cheeks.

“Perhaps you think I look devastatingly handsome,” Lily scoffs and James ignores her, “and can’t bear the thought of me without my new accessory.”

“Well I _never_.”

“You think I’m dashing and you love my glasses,” James teases, standing and offering his hand to Lily.

Lily stands and they begin the walk toward the house, hands swinging between them, “Shut your mouth.”

James pulls her against his chest and leans against one of the smaller saplings and murmurs, “Or what?”

“I can be pretty _persuasive_ when I put my mind to it,” Lily answers, straightening his spectacles while her forearms rest against his chest.

Humming, quiet, James takes her lips with his, warm and heady, the kiss sending her pulse thrumming. When she pulls back, breathless, Lily can’t help the chuckle that rises in her throat. “You’re pretty proficient in romance for a former statue.”

“Over two thousand years of experience,” James says with heavy cheek, trailing off meaningfully so Lily shoves his shoulder, grabbing her abandoned boots with her free hand.

“You’d better not have two thousand years worth of experience, sir.”

He kisses her forehead, short and sweet, before pulling her into the living room, lit with a welcoming golden glow from scattered lamps. After getting a small fire going, James settles in on the dainty couch, pulling Lily close. “In all honesty, I’ve not got much experience at all. Spent most of my life with too much responsibility hanging over my head to really consider any… _carnal interests_.”

Twisting, Lily tilts her head toward him, a playful glint in her eye, “So I pique your ‘carnal interests’ do I?”

“ _Provocateur_.”

Lily grins and twists so she can rest her feet on his lap and James glances at them with faux distress before picking stray grass and leaves from the soles. After wriggling her toes playfully, Lily’s smile fades into a contented expression, silence falling between them apart from the crackling fire. Despite his completed task, James’ hands rest on Lily’s exposed ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as they each drift off on their own thoughts.

“I never really did either,” Lily says after a time, voice soft.

James blinks, a little sleepy, “Sorry, I’ve not kept up with your thoughts.”

Sighing, Lily drops her head against the plush cushions that back the couch. “I’ve not been one to get much chance in the ‘carnal interests’ department, either.”

“How presumptuous would it be to say we could learn together?” James asks, a hesitant smirk tilting his lips.

An answering smile rises on Lily’s face. “Very,” she pauses for drama and waits _just_ long enough that James nearly thinks he’s gone too far, “But I’ve never been a fan of overdone standards of propriety,” she puts on an exaggerated posh expression as her voice rises a few octaves, “ _Oh dear the girls these days – white stockings after St Crispin’s Day – how inappropriate._ ”

James’s laugh rises loud and strong before he recalls the hour and quiets, eyes still wrinkled with joy as Lily’s hand finds his. “I honestly did mean what I said, Lily. About us.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver so James assumes this is an invitation to continue. “The timeline for us is really entirely up to you. I’d have married you the moment you bested me with your sword that afternoon.”

“I would’ve said yes to pretty much anything you asked the after the day you massaged my neck in the library,” Lily answers, light, but her gaze is warm and steady.

The moment settles into a not unpleasant heaviness, unbroken until James clears his throat and lets his eyes drop to his lap. “Forgive me – I – forgive an old man,” Lily’s lips quirk as James breathes out a steadying breath, “If I’ve misunderstood this – Are you genuinely saying I _can_ – ”

“Are you going to propose soon, dearest? Not all of us have thousand year lifetimes.”

James narrows his eyes, playful for a moment, but his face soon melts into that strong look of determination like she’d really seen only once, that day with Riddle. “Will you?”

“Will I what?” Lily asks, resorting to cheek to disguise her thudding heartbeat.

“ _Evans_.”

“ _Iacomus_.”

His expression turns from teasing indignation to something almost child-like in its innocence, and he looks at her with more love than she’d ever thought possible. “Marry me, Evans?”

Lily surges forward, knocking James back against the tufted arm of settee and murmurs a private ‘yes’ against his lips. It’s not much later when they’ve settled comfortably with each other – watching the fire burn as James fiddles with the sparkling ring he’d seemingly pulled out of nowhere and slipped onto Lily’s finger – that Sirius saunters in, taking in the tableau and lets out a groan. “Oi! Remus! They’re going to be _insufferable_ now.”

* * *

 

It’s over a celebratory supper specially prepared by James the following evening – with an assist from his sous chef Remus – that Sirius finally sheds some light on his recent secretive behavior. “You’re not going to be one of those husbands who only wants a home-maker wife, right?”

James simply looks affronted while Lily scoffs around a forkful of roast, “I certainly hope not. Or this will be the shortest engagement in history.”

Ignoring Remus’ eye roll, Sirius straightens up in his seat. “Excellent. Then I’ve got a job for you,” he takes a bite out of his roll, “for all of us really.”

Each of them pause over their dinners, Remus’ hands hovering comically over the roast, until he finally gest his head together. “What _kind_ of job?”

As Lily and James nod, Sirius grins triumphantly, knowing he’s already won. “What do you know about ancient Sweden?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans, travels, and revels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided I was too impatient to try and write more plot heavy stuff and wait to post this, so this is fairly fluffy, but it moves the plot along too. I hope you all like it, and rest assured they will get to adventuring and whatnot in part 3 (which I think will be the final part)

The seventh time Sirius suggests a giant magnet, Remus drops his head to the table, James lets out an almighty groan, and Lily turns red and leaves the room, muttering to herself.

Despite the dramatic reactions to his proposition, Sirius remains unperturbed, fiddling with one of the many fountain pens scattered across the crowded table.

Lily can be heard clattering about in the other room, likely putting on a kettle, if the metallic slams are to be believed, and Remus half drops half rolls to the floor, lank hair eschew and lanky limbs akimbo.

Seemingly looking for some guidance, Sirius prods James with his finger - the long, slender, and un-calloused digit of an aristocrat. "What have I done?"

James props his cheek in his scarred palm, blinking slowly at Sirius. "I have to believe – for my own sanity – that you know the answer to that question."

Sirius shrugs and James scrunches his eyes closed, rubbing at his lids beneath his smudged spectacles. "I’m too tired to tell if you're being a bastard or genuine."

"Can't I be a genuine bastard?"

"Sirius."

"They both get too academic and in their heads," Sirius finally says, relenting somewhat as he murmurs to James, "you've seen it too."

James tilts his head, partially surrendering the point, knowing Lily's been up well past the witching hour most nights and skipped more meals than she's had, despite his protests. "Still."

"If we don't get their blood going every once in a while they'll keel over, Iacomus."

A mischievous smirk rises on James' lips, but he bites back the retort about other more pleasurable ways to get blood going. Still, Sirius manages to trace his train of thought and scowls. "Don't."

Raising his hands in a defensive posture, James leans back in his chair. "I was merely going to suggest daily sparring sessions," Sirius blinks at him, unimpressed, but James plows ahead, "two birds with one stone, exercise and training; just in case."

Not a handful of minutes later, the kettle whistles from the kitchen and Lily soon pokes her head around the doorframe, hair a wispy riot framing her face.  “Tea’s in the sitting room, come help yourselves,” Remus’ head lifts from the ground and Lily offers a small smile to the trio, “got too stuffy in here.”

She’s halfway down the hall when she calls out, “I’ve also set out fresh pastry from the bakery,” and the boys are after her in a trice.

Before long, they’ve settled in near the crackling fire, draped in various decidedly improper positions across the furniture and each on their second slice of Beef Wellington by the time anyone says much more than an incoherent moan.

Remus slumps further in the chintz armchair he claimed promptly following their entrance into the cozy study, absentmindedly nudging Sirius with the tip of his boot.  “So.  The Geats.”

Sirius groans, “Can’t we digest first?”

“Can someone explain who this Beowulf character is,” James scowls, “was?”

Sitting up abruptly, without noticing James’ bereft expression when her head is no longer pillowed on his chest, Lily’s eyes light with excitement.  “Beowulf was a great hero, particularly among his people, the Geats.”

James’ lips purse almost unnoticeably.  “So what did he _do_ exactly?”

Lily kicks off her boots and pulls her feet up on the couch, face alight with excitement.  “The usual heroics – defeating monsters, liberating people.”

Remus takes in James’ unimpressed expression and bites back a smirk.  “Mostly, people thought he was a myth, so among other things this could prove he _existed_ in the first place.”

“So he defeated this monster, Grendel,” Lily continues, nodding to acknowledge Remus’ point.

“And later Grendel’s mother,” Remus adds.

“Yes!  They had been tormenting the Danes in Heorot for – how long?”

“Relatively?”

Lily laughs, “Sure.”

“Eventually, he was slain by a dragon – but not before he delivered the killing blow,” Remus concludes, nibbling on a biscuit.

Caught up in the excitement of their story telling, Lily’s not noticed James’ silence or vaguely pouty expression, but Sirius – ever watchful – has.  Still, his perceptiveness does not include a propensity for respect of social mores, so Sirius pushes up on his palms and sends James a sideways smirk.  “Lily dear, I do believe our Iacomus is feeling a bit tossed aside.”

Scowling, James kicks Sirius’ shin rather roughly for someone who’s not upset, “Don’t be daft.”

Lily quirks her brow, but slips her hand into James’ and scoots closer so they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip, earning an exaggerated gag from Sirius.

Shaking his head and laughing affectionately, Remus settles his feet cross-legged on the table and snuggles down into the plush armchair.  “ _Anyway_ , Sirius’ contact has reason to believe one of Beowulf’s swords is soon to be in demand.”

“For some nefarious purposes,” Sirius agrees, nodding.

James lifts his arm and gestures for Lily to lean against his side, and after she’s tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder, she turns her gaze to Remus.  “What’s the lore, then?”

Remus hums thoughtfully for a moment, “Generally, the power of swords is associated with the might of the person – in this case Beowulf - who wielded the blade with success.”

Nails scratching lightly at Lily’s scalp, James puts in, “There’s a general history of blood or venom imbuing blades with power.”

Lily’s eyes get a far off look, and the three men can practically _hear_ the gears turning in her head before she murmurs, “What about someone who _bested_ a sword.”

All three turn to her and Lily doesn’t give much clue to her train of thought aside from stating a seemingly unrelated idea.  “Peat bogs have preserving capabilities.”

She sits forward and James shares a glance with Sirius and Remus, wondering if his inability to follow Lily’s thoughts is some ‘I’m from another millennium’ problem, but they each look equally flummoxed.  James twists around to follow Lily’s circuits as she paces behind the settee and she looks at the boys excitedly.  “We need the sword that Grendel defeated.”

“I’m fairly certain Beowulf _strangled_ Grendel beyond sword-defeating capability,” Sirius drawls, but James shushes him.

“Yes, but then Beowulf needed proof,” Lily says quietly, eyes distant.

James turns around fully, tucking one leg beneath him.  “Which would mean he’d have beheaded Grendel,” Sirius raises his brows and James shrugs, “standard procedure.”

Remus bites his lip.  “So the bog…”

“We need the hilt,” Lily begins and Sirius finally catches on, cutting in, “ _And_ undead Grendel.”

Lily rolls her eyes as the boys exchange excited looks, “Not undead.”

Remus nudges James with the dusty toe of his boot.  “Good – we’ve got enough ‘should be dead but aren’t dead beings floating in our orbit’.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Lupin,” James grumbles mulishly, “I think your experience with me has gone pretty well.”

“ _So far_ ,” Lily teases, swiping a biscuit and taking a healthy bite.

“Don’t make me take back the proposal.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Flopping back onto the plush carpet, Sirius sighs, “Nah he really wouldn’t.  Iacomus is well and truly gone on you,” Lily squeezes James hand and Sirius groans, scrunching his eyes shut, “It’s quite disgusting.”

Remus sighs and Lily just snuggles into James’ side, undeterred by Sirius’ teasing.  “So where’d you get this tip?”

There’s an almost unnoticeable pause before Sirius answers around the rim of his teacup, “A friend.”

“Not good enough,” Remus drawls from his perch on the armchair.

“I figured as much,” Sirius murmurs, “It’s from Albus Dumbledore.”

Lily and Remus let out twin groans and James is lost, while Sirius straightens, showing that steely aristocratic backbone he only whips out on the most deserving of occasions.  “Don’t tell me what I already know, you two _snobs_.”

James quirks a brow, “Anyone care to enlighten a poor, uninformed, elderly man?”

All three immediately turn to provide the requested information, but Sirius cuts across Remus and Lily, much to their chagrin, “Lord Dumbledore is a wealthy aristocrat with a reputation for backing – _unusual_ endeavors.”

Remus snorts, “If by ‘unusual’ you mean completely insane and dead end then, yes, _unusual_.”

Despite her initial harsh reaction, Lily’s been uncharacteristically silent for the last bit of conversation and James is the first to turn toward her, letting the other two argue.  “Lily?”

Chewing her lip, Lily pulls away a little so James’ hand falls to her waist.  “I – well Dumbledore does have a bit of a reputation that I admit to believing, but,” she brushes her fingers over the rough nap of his trousers, “If _I_ had been a famous Lord while I was looking for you – ”

She lets the sentence drop and a small smile tilts James’ mouth, “You’d have seemed just as odd, eh?”

Lily nods and James presses a kiss to her forehead, lingering and affectionate, “You’re too good for any of us, my dear.”

“Because I decided to stop being a hypocrite?” Lily asks, wry.

“Because of your heart,” James says simply, eyes crinkling with his grin just for her, “It sounds a mite soppy – better in the Greek I think.”

Remus is halfway through a rant on Dumbledore’s claims that he’d found and conveniently hidden the secret to eternal life because he feared its effects on society when Lily clears her throat.  “It’s worth a look, yeah?”

* * *

 

Summer’s well and truly over when Lily and James find themselves tucked together on the deck of a steamship called _Aeterna_ , fall winds whipping through their woolen coats like pinpricks on skin.  They’re one of the few milling about above deck, and definitely the only passengers there, and the crewmen who find their daily tasks demand aboveboard actions tend to move as quickly as possible.

Which affords them a nice sort of loneliness, and allows for more _familiar_ behaviors that general society would frown on.  Nothing _too_ untoward, but if Lily tucks her harms inside James’ jacket and rests her cheek on his scratchy jumper, no one’s near enough to care.  And James’ arm doesn’t have to be twisted to get him to wander the decks despite the chill, largely because he seems to feel and endless _tug_ toward the red head in his arms that’s only staid when she’s near enough to touch.  But secondarily, anything cave-like tends to grate on him after a time, leading him to surmise he wasn’t _quite_ as unaware of the millennia he spent below ground as he’d like to think.

Still, he’s rather well adjusted all things considered, having got past bursting from below barefoot and trembling when the cramped cabin walls seemed to close in around him.  Sirius had woken that night too, only making himself known by following James at a slow pace, fully dressed and bearing a coat and shoes which he handed over wordlessly before lighting a cigar and wandering far enough away that James could let the tremors work through his limbs naturally.

When Sirius finally wanders close enough to speak, James is somewhat returned to himself and fully expects some sort of inquiry as to his night terrors.  Slowly, Sirius rests his forearms on the rail, gazing out at the inky sea lit by the silvery glow of the moon.  “Did I ever tell you about the time I almost won the title to Bagshot Park off Prince Arthur in a game of pinochle?”

And even though he knew precisely what the other man was doing, his question was just the right level of absurd to draw a startled laugh from James’ chest, breath fogging the night air.

That had been – _weeks ago_.  And slowly but surely, James manages – with help – to sleep through most nights.  He still has a preference for the wide open waters though, so when he can, he tucks himself into copious layers of clothing and tugs Lily with him like a very human, very gorgeous, very brilliant, hot water bottle.

His lips brush her hairline, his lower back pressed against the railing as the boat rocks beneath them.  “So the Geats, eh?”

Lily lets out a cold sounding laugh and snuggles closer.  “That prompt doesn’t really give me guidance on what information you’re looking for.”

Before he can clarify or tease back, a third figure emerges to join them with that jaunty lope that can only be associated with a certain disinherited Lord Black.  “I do not appreciate the amount of time I’ve spent in frigid temperatures since making your acquaintance, Lily.”

Lily laughs again, her breath warm against James’ throat.  “Don’t lie, dear _brother_.  I make your life exciting.”

“ _Maybe_.”

“Besides I’m better than Lucius.”

Sirius squints at the darkness, pulling a cigar from his coat and silently asking Lily’s permission, which she gives with a nod.  He lights the tip expertly so it glows orange in the night and sends a warm vanilla scent floating across the deck.  “I think dried out flan is better than Lucius.”

“That _is_ the shade of his hair,” James puts in, having become briefly acquainted with Sirius’ prat of a cousin one unexpected day in London.  The trio had been locked in an awkward sort of dance, all well aware they were on very opposing sides in what was nearly an underground war of sorts that year, but Lucius had always been a bit weak-willed and at least knew he was no match for Sirius and an ancient warrior in a brawl, so he’d just sent a stiff nod in their direction before contusing down the crowded street and disappearing down a winding byway, carefully polished boots clicking against the pavement.

They’re silent again for a bit, comfortable and familiar, before Lily murmurs, “Besides, it’s nowhere near as cold as last time, you big baby.”

* * *

 

Despite the chill, the first snows haven’t arrived yet and aren’t projected for a few weeks, leaving the foursome to travel by carriage from the docks to the city center. It’s bustling with merchants selling freshly caught fish and salted meats alongside bright smelling herbs and dry cheeses. Once they’ve broken past the bustle into the meandering streets, the shouting turns to the steady rumble of chatter as neighbors and shopkeepers exchange pleasantries and barter between themselves. Their guide is relatively silent, only pointing out landmarks he thinks to be of particular interest and Lily really does try, but the days of travel and her _extensive_ and borderline obsessive research if the region over the last months means she could probably accurately guess exactly where each part of the wagon jostling beneath them was imported or exported from.

Still, only those who know her best would be able to tell, which is why Sirius sends her a teasing glance, Remus sends her a commiserating grin, and finally James - showing his particular expertise in all things Lily - draws the driver into a conversation.

“We’re interested in a bit of sightseeing in the countryside. What’s the best way to travel with ease?”

The coachman, Frederick, scratches at the thinning hair beneath his dark cap. “If y’ want speed and maneuvering, horses are likely your best bet,” he glances over his shoulder, eyes lingering on Lily for a moment, “assuming everyone in the party’s capable riders.”

Sirius looks half indignant and half eager at the slight on Lily’s abilities, likely battling between twin instincts to fight on her behalf or wait and see what maelstrom she unleashes in the face of sleep deprivation and questioned sportsmanship.

Remus puts on a somewhat forced light air and shakes his head, “You’ve got a keen eye Freddy. I’m not much for equestrian pursuits. Raised in the city as I was.”

“Important trait to have, that,” Sirius nods, winking at Lily as James picks up the thought. “Aye. Would be right embarrassing to make snap judgments about a person’s abilities and talents only to be proven woefully incorrect.”

Frederick flushes but doesn’t answer beyond a jerk of his head, jostling the horses wordlessly as they trundle toward the inn.

It’s early afternoon by the time they’re fully registered with the management and everyone’s simultaneously famished and exhausted, lounged in the cozy guest parlor, a crackling fire warming their bones.

“Dinner’s at six?” Sirius asks.

Remus chuckles to himself, “Yes, and it seemed non negotiable, if Mrs. Nilsson’s scowl was anything to go by.”

And despite the fatigue that weighs heavily, Lily’s got other appetites to fill, ones that have been deprived for what feels like _ages._ “I saw a nice sort of pub a few streets down.”

James’ eyes light at her meaningful glance and he stands, brushing off his trousers. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit if you don’t mind the company.”

Sirius snorts. “Don’t try and run away to the Royal Shakespeare Company either of you, you’re right terrible actors.”

Grinding despite himself, Remus nudges Sirius with the toe of his boot, “Leave them alone you git.”

Placing a kiss on Remus’ stubbled cheek, Lily trots up the creaky stairs to retrieve her coat and James follows to do the same. And if they take a bit too long and look a bit too flushed for a single flight of steps, Sirius and Remus manage to hold back their teasing. Largely because of Lily’s lofty expression and promise to “forget” Remus’ hatred of halibut and eat all the bread on the way home.

They’re quiet for a dozen or so steps, shoes clacking on the uneven cobblestones while Lily leans into James’ side, arm tucked through his.

“So.”

“ _So_ ,” Lily parrots.

“Now that you’ve got me alone, what would you like to do with me?” James murmurs, warm breath sending her flyaways floating around her face.

Clearing her throat, Lily doesn’t break stride despite her thudding heart. “I think you know very well - I _demonstrated_ it pretty clearly, I thought.”

“I have been called a slow learner,” James laughs as he and Lily stop off at a bakery too tempting to ignore.

Both light on being together and the rewarding, heady feeling of finishing a journey, James and Lily make casual chatter with the baker and his wife, which is not only polite, but also ends up with lots of free ‘samples’ to gobble down as they browse. By the time they’ve made their selections – sweet breads and a parcel filled with hearty rolls.

They _also_ get a recommendation for a local tavern – after being quickly warned away from their intended restaurant with a wince and reference to the fact that there are on occasion large numbers of _unwanted_ four legged patrons that frequent the storage room.

When they arrive at the Sword and Anchor, it’s that odd time between lunch and dinner where the occasional stray dish and customer alike linger in the forgotten corners, but the rest is like a ghost town, albeit a clean and welcoming one.

Bergljot, the bar matron, introduces herself and sends them a warm grin as she returns from the washroom, hands and apron damp as her sharp blue eyes assess them. “Late lunch for two?”

There’s a beat where James hesitates, he’s still a bit shy about his odd accent in public, but he must be buoyed by the easiness of their time at the bake shop and maybe the squeeze of Lily’s hand on his arm, because he’s the one to answer lightly, “We’ve got a couple of companions who’ll be very distressed if we return with only enough for two.”

“Four of you, eh? Why not eat here?” Bergljot suggests, wiping down the bar top, “We’ve got a local group of musicians coming in tonight to play. It’ll be a wonderful night.”

They share a look between them, and Lily can see that behind the weariness of travel, James is carrying too many years of _everything_ – and if she needs a night of lightness, then he must be aching for it. So she sends him a subtle grin and turns to Bergljot. “What time?”

The boys are fairly easy to convince and Sirius is nearly vibrating with the prospect of getting to see Remus ‘loosen up’ which he seems to believe will include a fair amount of drinking, singing, and dancing. And despite Remus’ eye rolls and huffs at each of Sirius’ proclamations – and James and Lily’s eager agreements – he seems to be playing the part of ‘grumpy old researcher’ rather than exhibiting genuine distaste for the prospect of a night spent reveling.

Still, James holds him back once Sirius and Lily disappear into the garden, already comparing their mental catalogues of drinking songs. “You could speak up, Remus. If you really don’t want to go. None of us will mind a quiet night in,” James murmurs, quiet, before he chuckles under his breath, “Probably the most sensible thing to do, eh?”

Remus laughs and ruffles James’ hair with his spindly, scarred fingers. “You really _are_ a mother hen.”

“I’m just trying to – “

“Cluck, cluck,” Remus says, sniggering as he wraps one arm around James’ neck and squeezes playfully.

Shoving at Remus’ side boyishly, in that way that’s almost shocking considering his entirely un-boyish age, James scowls, despite the smile tickling at his lips. “May all your ale be _just_ too warm and your fish tinged with a hint of too much brine.”

“Shouldn’t you mention my first born too? Maybe you’ve forgotten how ancient curses work, in your old age – “

With a loud grunt, James throws his arms up and down before striding toward the staircase, turning back as he reaches the landing and pointing an imperious finger at Remus. “Just for that, I’m not cutting in when Sirius tries to make you dance.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More plans, rougher travels, and the find of a lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY FINISHED. Miracle miracle. It's a light ending, and hopefully you enjoy :) this is still for my lovely petalstofish

As the early morning sun pierces through the crack in the woolen curtains, Lily groans and attempts to roll over and steal a few more moments of shuteye.  Only to find her face squished into a very _male_ back – and then nearly get her nose broken with an errant elbow.

The male – Sirius – twists around with a groan, tugging his coat back over his lean shoulder, “Wha’s happenin’?”

There’s a thud, and then a moan from the floor, before Remus’ head pokes up over the side of the bed, “First you steal the bed, then you _kick me to the floor_.”

Sirius’ mouth falls open to respond, pearly teeth glinting in the pale light, when the door bangs open with an entirely too loud slam that has the trio wincing, revealing James bearing feast enough for a party three times their size.  As he kicks the door closed with slightly more care, James grins, “Steals the bed with _my_ fiancé.”

“I’m protecting her virtue,” Sirius replies loftily as he saunters toward James’ offerings with entirely too much grace for someone sporting a hell of a hangover, if the pounding in Lily’s head is anything to go by.

Still, she’s not too inhibited to let Sirius’ comment go without tossing in her own, “You do realize you’re not _actually_ my brother.”

Sniffing beneath one of the tray covers, Sirius quirks a brow in her direction, “More your brother than _he_ is.”

James tilts his head accepting the proposition, however strange, and bats Sirius’ hand away from something that resembles oatmeal drenched in brown sugar and some sort of berry, “That’s your _sister’s._ ”

Not needing more of an invitation, Lily slips from beneath the covers and pads over in her rumpled shirt and trousers, hair a riot of waves around her face broken free from its loose braid.  She hops and skips across the wood slats between the plush rugs that decorate most of the floor before claiming the expertly prepared bowl of piping hot cereal and settling into one of the overstuffed chairs.  Lily blows James a kiss in thanks and he blushes, earning a groan from Sirius as Remus finally collects himself and lopes over, lank hair a mess around his angular face as he claims a rickety chair.

“I’m not sure if I’m nauseous from too much alcohol, or remembering Sirius’ terrible gyrating,” he sighs, spearing a salted bit of fish to taste it.

Sirius crunches into a hunk of crusty bread, frowning before searching for butter on the crowded table, “I am a _danseur_.”

“I think a certain chair turned kindling at the pub would beg to differ, yeah?” James teases, pulling an empty plate toward him and scooping a few sausages onto it.

“ _Traitor_.”

James points his potato-laden fork at Sirius, “I know who ate my dinner while I was getting the next round last night.”

“Turnabout’s fair play, Black,” Remus puts in, dragging a few hot cakes onto his plate and slathering them with butter.

A thud under the table and Remus’ following jolt are fairly good indications that Sirius’ skills as a _danseur_ are now being used to exact revenge on uncooperative parties, but luckily Lily’s quirked brow puts an end to any furthering of hostilities beyond a tossed forkful of eggs.

James clears his throat. “ _Anyway.”_

Lily smiles and pats James’ hand. “Yes, on to serious subjects — how long do we need before we can be ready to go?”

Remus drags his pancake through the river of syrup running around the side of his plate, thoughtful enough that Sirius doesn’t interrupt with any sort of hijinks.

“If I’m to be guide, we should probably hold off until I know the way.”

Sirius snorts, “I do prefer not getting lost, yes.”

Not responding beyond an eye roll, Remus answers, “I should say day after tomorrow will be adequate enough time to get our affairs in order.”

“Bloody hell don’t kill us just because Sirius is an arse,” James says with a laugh, earning a grin from Remus.

* * *

 

Over the next days, Remus finds a few locals to stealthily consult while Sirius, James, and Lily divide their remaining supply list between them. They’d not liked the idea of shipping large amounts of food and transport overseas at large expense without even knowing which would even be necessary to their journey and the elements.  It’s a delicate balance they keep, asking enough questions to receive expert opinion without marking themselves as green foreigners to be cheated. Though according to Lily, anyone who _did_ manage to cheat an Evans didn’t normally have much chance to enjoy their spoils — a vague statement that coupled with a menacing flash of her teeth had all three men decide _against_ questioning further.

True to schedule, Remus tucks his maps and notes away just before supper on the second day and droops back in his chair with a sigh.

James pats his forearm, “Perhaps you need some of these spectacles as well.”

Remus huffs a laugh. “I reckon I’m alright — anyone would go blind after studying handwritten maps for nearly forty-eight hours straight.”

They sit in silence for a bit, save the crackling fire in the hearth, wind beginning to pick up and rattling the panes.

After a moment, James stills his fidgeting fingers and replaces his glasses on the crooked bridge of his nose. “You know much about this Dumbledore fellow?”

Remus hesitates. “He’s — _controversial_.”

“Does that mean you don’t trust him?”

“It means I often wish he was wrong.”

* * *

 

The road is well travelled, filled with ruts from wagon wheels and muddy puddles from melting snow piles.  As they jostle through the countryside after a brief break to feed and water the horses – and themselves – Lily shifts in her perch and lets her head drop to rest on James’ shoulder.  She can feel his smile when he presses it against her forehead and shifts his arm to wrap around her comfortably. By the time the carriage drifts to a halt, Lily’s slept for long enough that the sun has already begun to set.

Swiping at the corner of her mouth with an embarrassed flush, Lily buries her face in James’ chest, damp spot pressed against her cheek.  “You should’ve woken me.”

He brushes her hair back behind her ear fondly and kisses her temple, “You’re _fine_ darling.  I’ve seen much worse.”

“Because he’s from a time where indoor plumbing didn’t exist,” Sirius teases with a smirk.

“Aqueducts, Black,” James grumbles, kicking Sirius’ shin decisively.

Lily squeezes James’ knee lightly and sticks her head out the window, wind whipping her escaping hairs out and around her face.  “Alright, Lupin?”

“Bloody Sirius had _hand cramps_ , so I’m quite overdue for another break soon.”

Ducking back inside, Lily narrows her eyes at Sirius and James, “What about Iacomus?”

The carriage rumbles to a stop and Remus drops down from his perch to answer, “We held a vote after James almost lost the horses and agreed he could help in other ways.”

“I still call bull shite,” Sirius grumbles, “Didn’t you drive a bloody chariot or something?”

Before James can answer beyond a scowl, Lily shoos Remus away from the door and drops from the carriage with a two thuds of her boots in the damp earth.

“Won’t be long ‘til we’ve got to abandon our wheels,” Remus answers the unasked question as he takes in the distant horizon, “Perhaps we should break here for the night?”

They work in tandem, the four of them, setting up camp and divvying up rations for the evening.  James gets a fire going quickly, warm and inviting, within the first quarter of an hour despite the wet.

“How’s your _klippfisk_?” Sirius asks from his seat near the blaze.

“Call it cod, tosser,” Lily teases, jostling his knee with hers.

“She doesn’t understand blending into the landscape,” Sirius says as an aside to Remus, who buries his grin behind a bit of crusty bread.

When day breaks, they ready the horses and pack the scant belongings they’d unpacked for the evening, traveling a handful of kilometers before the road ends in an expanse of untraversable ice – at least by any _easy_ means.

There’s an outpost, a klick away from where their most difficult hike will begin, where they leave the horses and the carriage, leaving a deposit to ensure their care for the next fortnight.  Once Sirius’ business within has been finished, he returns and shoulders his own pack with a grin. “Ready lads?”

And so they begin, spikes clicking as they break the surface of the ice, as the rope sways between them while Remus takes up the lead.  It’s slow, tedious work, though the threat of danger tickles at the back of their minds, ensuring they don’t forget the ease could quickly give way to terror.

Which they luckily to manage to avoid for the first three quarters of the journey across until a jarring _crack_ sounds from somewhere behind and the rope pulls taught as Sirius lets out a shout.

Lily dives forward and grabs the rope with her leather-gloved hands, “Shite!”

In a trice, James’ arms wrap tightly around her middle while his spikes dig into the ice with a crunch.

Before coming to their aid in a closer manner, Remus digs the pickaxe into a nearby ice cap deeply and tugs experimentally.  While Lily and James strain at the rope, Remus picks his way toward them carefully, testing the edges of the crevasse for more loose bits before he drops to his belly and reaches his arms down to reach Sirius.

“Grab hold, Sirius.”

With a grunt, Sirius gently swings closer and squeezes Remus’ upper arms tightly.  “Better be stronger than you look, you wiry git.”

“I can still drop you, Black.”

“Could you not?” Lily hisses through gritted teeth while she presses back into James’ grasp more firmly.

Through their combined efforts and mindless supplications aimed toward the heavens, the three of them manage to finally bring Sirius back from the brink and collapse in a heap of heaving chests and flushed faces.

The wind whips overhead as Sirius finally murmurs against Remus’ shoulder, “Just making sure you three are paying attention, yeah?”

Their nervous laughter mixes as it rises into the cloudless blue sky, until James sighs and shoves at Remus’ shoulder, “Do a bloke a favor and untie his rope and shove him back over, eh?”

“Ungrateful, you lot are,” Sirius grumbles over their joined chuckles as he props his head on his hand, grinning.

Once they’ve gathered themselves, they manage the rest of the trek before sunset and with little drama, chapped cheeks, and wind burned lips, only hiking a bit further after to find a roughly hewn cave of sorts to weather the evening.

After heating a pot of water over the fire, Lily makes her way to the back of the cave, to wipe down her bared skin.  It stings a bit as she scrubs at her knuckles, stray bits of dirt coming away and clouding the water as she rinses her sudsy cloth.  Not daring to fully wet her head, Lily simply runs damp fingers through her wild locks and tucks it back into neat plaits that dangle loosely over her shoulders.

By the time she’s done and feeling refreshed, the inviting scent of sausages roasted over an open fire is beckoning from the section of the cave where the boys have set up for the night.  “Loo’s free,” Lily says with a smile as she claims her seat beside James.

Remus fills the bucket again from the melting ice outside and makes his way to the back of the cave while James prods the sausages as they sizzle enticingly.

Once they’ve all gorged themselves – as much as you can on rationed meals – and cleaned up, they divvy up the evening hours into watch shifts.

The firelight flickers comfortingly as James and Remus make themselves comfortable at the mouth of the cave.  The night is quiet around them, aside from the chilled wind and the irregular _plip plop_ of the ice dropping from the stone surrounding them, until Remus tilts his face toward James.

“If we don’t get some sort of chatter going, I _will_ fall asleep.”

James snorts, “What if I get you monologuing about your tragic past?”

Chuckling quietly, Remus tucks his coat more firmly around his neck and sighs, “Nothing particularly interesting.  Grew up fairy poor in the countryside, but happy. Got a fever when I was about eleven – which is the explanation for the occasional wheezing you may have noticed.”

“You’re fine,” James murmurs, nudging Remus’ elbow, “Sirius doesn’t have any childhood ailments to excuse his winging.”

“He’d say terminal classism,” Remus snorts, “But it got the two of us here, eh?  He does use his powers for good.”

“They just recruited you – how much did you know when you signed on?”

Pulling a bit of jerky from the pouch tucked in his pocket, Remus offers James a strip as he explains, “Not all at once, bits gathered here and there – but I’d have gone anywhere with those two.”

“They _are_ very convincing,” James laughs, taking a large bite so his teeth flash in the dim light.

“I was hopping across the continent from one dead end to the next, but they just seemed like something I wanted to be a part of.”

“Lily and Sirius seem to have a knack for adopting the lonely and downtrodden,” James says after a moment, “If that’s not a disturbing thing to say about my fiancé.”

“Everything you and Evans say about each other is disturbing,” Sirius drawls from his pallet.

“Get over here and carry your weight, Black,” Remus grumbles, rising with creaky joints and tired eyes.

“Make me, Lupin.”

James drops his head back against the stone behind him.  “Bloody hell.”

* * *

 

Travel is easier after the first few days, the craggy crevasses and uneven landscape left behind for green hills.  They’ve been at it for almost a week by the time Remus utters those beautiful words – “We’ll arrive tomorrow I should say – as much as you can _arrive_ at an old and likely ruinous mead hall.”

“Don’t get us too excited, Mr. Lupin, you’ll give me the vapors,” Sirius drawls, eyeing the sun as it drifts lower in the azure sky.  

Lily buried her snicker in James’ neck, tightening her grip around his shoulders as they crest yet another small rolling hill. “D’you ever miss wearing skirts, James?”

He twitches the bridge his nose to shift his spectacles higher as he considers the question, Sirius and Remus bickering in the background. “They do allow for better air circulation — _and_ my arms were free.”

“I don’t miss petticoats,” Lily volunteers, bobbing her feet childishly, “Or corsets. But I could do with a nice breeze up my skirts at the moment.”

She doesn’t miss the flush that rises up his neck over the tips of his ears, but she doesn’t acknowledge it beyond nuzzling his jawline. “S’pose it’s lucky Sirius missed that opening.”

“It was low hanging fruit, my dear sister. I am a _connoisseur_ of the comedic arts.”

“Is that why you laughed for a quarter of an hour coming up with new nicknames for James after he got his glasses?” Remus asks with a roll of his eyes.

“All high brow.”

“Four eyes _is_ the cream of primary school humor,” Lily teases before whispering something into James ear that puts his previous blush to shame.

Sirius grunts. “You disgust me.”

“Stuff it.”

* * *

 

By their normal midday meal time the following afternoon, they’ve more or less reached their destination and Lily’s practically chomping at the bit to actually get her hands on something ancient and untouched for hundreds – or thousands – of years. A concept she’s really lucky remained a private thought, because Sirius could have gone all sorts of places with it, and her cheeks heat at the thought.

Which James notes, nudging her lightly with his elbow, “Alright? Too much sun?”

His fingers rise to toy with the end of her braid playfully, using it to tickle the places she’s _definitely_ gotten too much sun – red kissing her cheeks, the tips of her ears.

“Quite alright, thank you,” Lily drawls, threading her arm through his.

Sirius takes the opportunity to jog up beside them, looping an elbow around Lily’s neck and dropping a broad brimmed hat onto her head with the other. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

“I hate all hats on principal and this one in particular,” Lily huffs, flicking at the brim, but at James’ pleading look, leaves it otherwise in place. “S’pose a bit of shade can’t hurt.”

James lets his arm drop so their fingers can knit together and squeezes her hand gently as they crest the final hill before the ruined mead hall comes fully into sight.

Sniffing the air with a scowl, Sirius murmurs, “Smells like – burned dirt.”

“Peat,” Lily supplies, already halfway across the field and to the hall, “From the bog.”

“Which should be,” Remus squints at the map he’d been poring over for the better part of four months, “Just west of here.”

“Don’t you boys want to explore a bit first?” Lily asks with a mischievous grin, trotting ahead and ducking into the shadowed hall before they have a chance to respond to the contrary. They exchange varied combinations of shrugs and rueful glances before following Lily into the crumbling building.

* * *

 

The remainder of the day passes quickly as they pick their way through the ruins, searching for any clues or necessary tools before they make the trek to the bog. Lily has James copy down a few etchings and runes for study later on while Remus spends most of the afternoon re-drafting his map for accuracy. Sirius, in the meanwhile, takes it upon himself to set up their camp for the evening and prepare a hearty stew for supper that smells delicious enough to break through Lily’s academia induced haze to draw her outside.

“When did it get so dark?” Lily asks as if she’s been in some sort of stupor.

James smiles, “Since the sun started setting a quarter of an hour ago?” and when she doesn’t seem enlightened, he laughs, “You asked for that lamp, the one in your hand?”

She glances toward the lamp that does in fact dangle from her dirt-stained fingers and frowns thoughtfully, “Perhaps a break would be in my best interest.”

And just as James is ushering her outside, the stars begin winking to life and Sirius shouts, “Evans you’d better get over here and enjoy my food before I become a very salty housewife.”

Dinner passes in a mix of work-talk and teasing jibes – mostly favoring the latter once Sirius’ secret stash of rum comes out – until Remus begins nodding off against Sirius’ shoulder.

“Why don’t we head to sleep, eh?” Sirius murmurs, quietly, though Remus jolts awake at the utterance.

“Got to – take care of business first,” Remus mutters, a bit confused, and stumbles off into the trees.

They’ve begun clearing their dishes and preparing for sleep by the time Remus returns, face tight and eyes wide in warning, “We’ve got company.”

Before he can provide more information, a diminutive figure enters the clearing, rotund beneath layers of moth-eaten fabric and a felt cap. “Fancy meetin’ strangers all th’way out here.”

Remus tilts his head. “This is Maisy – a sort of _groundskeeper_ for the area.”

“Self-appointed,” Maisy shrugs, “Not many interested in the position.”

They exchange covert glances before Sirius lets his most tantalizing grin slip into place as he gestures to their meager leftovers. “We’ve just finished eating but you’re welcome to as much as you like, Maisy.”

Maisy accepts readily, tucking in to her fairly sizable portion, before letting her eyes wander between the foursome. “So. I assume you’ve all got questions about your strange evening visitor – though I _was_ here first so technically _you’re_ the visitors.”

She ends her rambling with a mischievous tick of her brow, spooning a large mouthful of stew and swallowing it gladly.

Remus shrugs and Lily eyes the other two before James finally speaks, voice low and calming in that honeyed tone that sends shivers up Lily’s spine, even when he’s placating an unknown elderly woman that drifted in like a will-o-the-wisp. “You’ve not given us any reason to think you’re untrustworthy. Unless wandering about in the woods after dark counts against you,” he glances around at the group, “In which case, we’re all questionable characters.”

“That’s still up for debate,” Sirius drawls, drawing chuckles from the others and lightening the mood considerably.

After brief – and mostly vague – introductions, Lily manages to finesse their most pressing needs into the conversation. “So what can you tell us about the land here? We’ve only heard the most academic of accounts, but I’m sure you’ve got a better expertise.”

“Aye,” Maisy agrees, “You’ve gotten the sanitized version I’m sure. None of the best legends make it past the ice fields.”

Lily snaps the twig in her hand into small bits, tossing them each into the fire individually and sending sparks up into the dark night air. “We’ve heard the bog has some fascinating preservation capabilities.”

“Even the ancients knew about it. You know how the ancient Egyptians stored away treasures and protection for the afterlife?”

All eyes snap toward her, and Remus leans to murmur in Lily’s ear, “Dumbledore’s warned of these types of curses in the past.”

Maisy takes a breath. “Well Lords and Kings around here were more concerned about building unbeatable armies for their pre-death life. Concerned enough in fact, to attempt creating an _undead_ army.”

“For?”

“The great Beowulf, of course,” Maisy answers with a grin, “Though he was bested by dragons long before the alchemists perfected the army – if they ever did,” she chuckles lightly, “Or so the legends say.”

“And if Beowulf had lived, how would he have controlled the army?” James finally asks, since his companions seem a bit lost for words and Maisy’s particularly fascinated with the pile of dirt at her feet.

“Ah, the ultimate question,” Maisy begins, winking at James so he blushes. “You must know the story of the great warrior – and his lost sword from the battle with Grendel’s mother.”

Lily nods, fighting to keep her face carefully blank, “Of course.”

“Once the army was built – with more human sacrifices than we’d like to recall – they planned to retrieve the sword – which was imbued with the monster’s venom – and re-cast it for Beowulf to guide his army.”

Sirius scratches at the scruff slowly working its way across his jawline since they left town and bites his lip. “So Beowulf dies and they just dropped the whole idea?”

Maisy, for the first time since her tale began, gets a serious look in her eye and frowns thoughtfully, “They didn’t trust anyone but him to wield that kind of power – not without getting drunk on it.”

* * *

 

Maisy doesn’t stay the night, taking her leave despite their protests about safety in the rapidly darkening landscape, and they spend the rest of their evening huddled on their pallets and discussing the truthfulness of the legend, until they drift off one by one.

As the fire sputters out, Lily’s eyes drift closed as she assumes she’s the last of the group to sleep.

Until James inches closer behind her and lets his arm wrap around her middle, the other propping his head so he looms over her in the darkness. Fingers grasping his, Lily twists onto her back and smiles softly, “Penny for your thoughts?”  
His answering grin is a brilliant flash against the night sky, as his fingers brush over her dirt-smudged cheek. “I suppose undead army isn’t much more odd than bringing a statue back to life after a few millennia, eh?”

Lily laughs quietly, mindful of where Sirius and Remus sleep only a few paces away. “S’pose not.”

* * *

 

They make the short hike to the infamous bog early the next morning with a vague sort of plan in mind. Based on Maisy’s information and Lily’s prior research, the hoard and miniature army should all be located on the south end of the peat, which means they need only search a small segment of the murky waters.

“So who’s going in first?” Sirius asks once they’ve gathered around the lip, nudging a rock into the dark water.

Before anyone else can volunteer, James has tossed his shirt to the side – leaving Lily’s mouth a bit dry – and toed his boots off. “I know my way around a sword pommel best.”

“Is that a euphemism – do I need to defend my sort of sister’s honor?” Sirius teases, shoving James shoulder with a smile.

Lily recovers herself and presses a short kiss to James’ lips and slips his glasses from his nose. “Don’t die, eh?”

“It’s fairly difficult to kill me dear,” James answers lightly, “But I will be as cautious as my nature allows.”

Remus snorts, “That’s not particularly reassuring.”

After a few unsuccessful deep dives, James reemerges with a victorious glint in his eyes, “Got a pommel down here, and then some.”

“Treasure?” Sirius asks excitedly.

James shakes the dripping tendrils of hair from his eyes and sends Lily a wink. “Probably more exciting for the academics among us.”

“Peat _is_ an excellent preservative,” Lily reasons, squatting low and squinting at the water, as if she could see through the muck and mire to James’ bounty.

“Can you bring it up by yourself?”

“Depends on whether you’re willing to wait for me to single handedly disassemble an entire village,” James answers, delighting in the excited flush that rises on Lily’s cheeks.

“The old man will be chuffed to bits,” Sirius says after a moment, laugh coming out like a huff.

Once James has retrieved the sword hilt and tugged his slick body back onto relatively dry land, he drops onto his back and breathes heavily, eyes scrunched shut. While Sirius and Remus set about examining the sword and guessing exactly what Dumbledore will decide is next steps, Lily drops down on her side and presses her cheek to James’ chest.

“Alright Iacomus?”

“Always, Evans.”

Her fingers trail up his side, a shiver running through him more from her touch than the chill that rises in the air as the sun begins its descent. She sighs against his chest and presses up on one hand so she hovers overhead. “You know – once we’re married – I never want to stop all _this_ ,” Lily finally gets out, gesturing a bit wildly so she almost tilts herself backward.

Rising onto one elbow, James cups her jawline and smiles softly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her jaw relaxes and her set lips gentle into a half grin. “I know – I mean I’d hoped you understood.”

Leaning close, James presses his lips to hers, kissing her ‘til she’s breathless and nearly speechless. Before she has a moment to let her brain grind to work again, James gets that playful glint in his eye that always means trouble, “Without a working, how will you keep me in my lavish lifestyle?”

“ _Ass_.”

And despite her words, Lily’s eyes crinkle in laughter and she presses her forehead to his as he caresses the column of her neck. “But you love me anyway.”

“ _I love you anyway_.”

 


End file.
